20141007_073

I came here after I saw an announcement in the hospital where I worked as a nurse collecting blood samples. It said that volunteers were wanted for a field hospital. At first I thought it would be too hard for me both emotionally and physically. My two years of experience didn’t seem enough for what it would take. However, this idea haunted me almost during the whole day, and finally I called my mom and told her that I wanted to go. She knew better than to try to talk me out of this decision, and she just told me to have a world with my father. He said nothing except that I must be crazy to leave the comfort of the home. So, the next day I submitted my application, and one day later they sent me a draft notice. I found myself in a military hospital and ten days later they sent me here. That was already two months ago.

I am very lucky with my parents. They support all my initiatives and never beg me to come back home as soon as possible, as many other parents do. They would always say that they are fully aware that I am here for the sake of the worthy cause. And it’s true. The experience I get here is invaluable, as some the best doctors of our region are working here. It’s a great honor to work side by side with them in the intensive care department. In my previous job I didn’t really feel that I was needed, whereas now I can see that my skills are required. This seems to be the reason why I wanted to come here and why I don’t want to leave.

I thought that I was going to the battlefield with dead bodies and limbs torn off. I thought that I would only get something to eat no more than once a week and call my parents once a month. In fact, it’s almost like a resort. The conditions are certainly far from being comfortable, but bearable enough for the sake of those guys who come here for treatment. None of them cries or gets hysterical after major operations, and even amputations. When they are told about the rehabilitation time, what scares them most is not the disability or forthcoming suffering, but rather the separation from their fellow soldiers. So, it is really worth staying here for the sake of such people.

Looking backwards, I can say that nothing seems extremely terrifying: neither the vicinity of the frontline in Pobeda, nor the shelling of the hospital in Orekhovo, nor the two and a half days of non-stop operations. It was only once that I got really frustrated - when I found out that a 19-year-old chap from Aidar, whom we virtually got back from the dead, finally died in a hospital in Kharkiv. They failed to save him.